Posts Tagged ‘TV’

We are in Bakio.
Life is perfect.
Life is precarious, as everywhere.
Life is perfect.
Waves.
Special climate.
Not too hot.
We came to Bilbao
from Barcelona.
In this region, too
history means
resistance and independence.
Bakio has a new leftist mayor.
Bakio is a mid-sized town.
Summer houses.
Summer apartments.
Some things all year.
Bigger waves in winter.
The sea claims back
the old beachline.
Life is perfect.
The church of San Juan
up on that rock not very far
two hours on foot
less if you hurry
is in Game of Thrones.
Only there it’s a palace.
See you soon!

the smiling one
is well protected
she hangs forever
in a brand-new prison
supported by Nippon Television
visited daily
by millions of people
all of them mortal
no-one cares if they smile
except some of them
for a very short while

three dreams in one night
one after the other
three blossoms opened
on the same topic:
violence

I dream of two female journalists
from Chinese Business View
they used to interview me all the time
but then I beat up a male reporter
because he stuffed sweet crumbs into my mouth
when I didn’t want it

I dream of a real
Japanese devil
seems very friendly
but there’s no need for mobilization
I want him dead
though those war films haven’t fooled me
I know killing him won’t be easy
I am preparing a saw

I dream of my roommates
at college
we move into a new place together
it’s an apartment with bathroom
I am taking a pee
someone kicks me from behind
I turn around and kick him
to the ground
almost killing him

on the TV-screen I saw a camel,
soft and fuzzy, getting up from the sand.
tall, soft and fuzzy camel
had just been sleeping. the lamplight,
the people disturbed him. they cuddled him
and he went down on his knees again.
my heart became very fuzzy and furry.
just like the camel was not in the TV-set,
like it was real.
of course it was a real camel.

we were happy.
we were relieved.
we were very, very, very,
verily glad.
we were exhausted.
we ate.
we drank.
the ex-neo-nazi
got to rave once more on tv:
the anti-fascist candidate’s fans
had called the ex-neonazi’s candidate
a nazi!
the neo-nazis’ hopeful himself
now twice defeated
wants to run again in six years.
today it is
the day after.
best wishes for austria!

I pick up my son
we walk home from school
all the way talking about
a little bear
maybe it’s that boy upstairs
Little Bear is his name
now we are already
at our home
I take out my key
to unlock the metal door
it’s pitch black inside
but there is a sound!
my son shouts:
“Who are you? Man or bear?”
he shouts so loud,
that little noise
gets louder too!
I push my son
away from the door
I rush in like an arrow
leap into the kitchen
stretch out both arms
grab two vegetable knives
from the rack by the sink
they gleam in the dark
I am very glad
I had them sharpened
two days ago

From the end of a long corridor
in a Chinese courtyard
two gentlemen walking up slowly.
The older one with the grimy beard,
he is my idol from when I was young.
The younger one with the smooth chin
is my favorite active soccer player.
Maradonna and Messi
have arrived in fornt of me,
so I tell them:
“You have to win!
You must come out on top!
You must hold the World Cup!
If you guys are eliminated
our whole goddamn TV
will never stop playing
‘Don’t cry for me, Argentina’,
like it was your Memorial Day!”
Two soccer kings
look speechless at me.
Who is this impertinent Chinese fan?

In my dream
they hung me up,
dipped a whip in cold water
to beat me,
so I should confess.
Their question
was tricky:
“Why do you write poems?”
I told the truth:
“I don’t know.”
The leather lashed as heavy rain,
thicker, harder.
Really couldn’t stand it,
so I roared, “Pain! …”
A miracle happened,
the rain stopped.

Some people say this country
resembles a public toilet.
Some go further and say
it is a latrine.
I am not of the same opinion.
Whenever I enter such a latrine
I feel I am going to
spit out all my entrails.
In real life
I don’t feel this
all the time.

my feeling against The People
comes from my childhood,
from the movies I saw.
those guys on the screen
they always killed
in the name of the people
one time they shot
the father of a girl I was fond of
the girl was so desperate
she saw no way out
drowned herself in the river

Concerning the end of a tv drama,
I had an argument with my wife,
it got rather intense.
The revolutionary cadre,
about to take leave from this world,
trembling while reading his file,
secretly printed out by his son,
saying: “You all take a look,
my whole life is blameless
not one little blemish!
I am happy, I am content.”
Then he dies with a smile.

This summer in Xiaozhai in Xi’an,
on a pedestrian bridge.
A friend from college,
my former girlfriend,
she took my picture but didn’t know it.
Only later she went through her mobile.
She sent it to me, then I realized,
we had been there at the same time,
but missed each other.
She took a photograph of a beggar,
I was in there by accident.
You can see on the photo,
I passed the beggar,
gave him no money.

Tu Youyou received her Nobel
in Stockholm
Biology prize or Medicine prize
and thanked them
on China Central Television
they didn’t air her for long
but I started sweating
I was afraid
the speaker would blurt out:
“This is another victory
for the working masses’ wisdom
of the Chinese people.”

I don’t think
the smokestack
spouting
clouds of dark smoke
behind Du Fu’s statue
in the town where he lived
was put there with ill will.
On the contrary,
I think it is well-intentioned.
It is a performance,
they want to contrast and emphasize
Du Fu’s great sorrow
for the land and the people
that classic expresssion
it shows very well

I smoke a cigarette
under a street light
and the cigarette
is smoking me.
We are two smokers
don’t need any language
we are connected
just in this way.
Smoking each other
smoke curling up
in strands and spirals
glistering, swaying
sparkling grey whips.
I am smiling
standing
at the same time
I connect
with the next cigarette
fish out my lighter
and
have a cold
shudder.

12/19/11
Tr. MW, Oct. 2015

Gui ShiLONELY BEER BOTTLES

every hot night watching the Europe cup
I need a few beers in the fridge
let them get chilled
later when the time is ripe
I take them out
and open their caps.
They heave a sigh like they do every time.
Then I watch the game
and finish the beer all the way.
At intermission
I go to the bathroom.
At this time, there are only
these few empty bottles
left standing.
Through the glass
they watch commercials.

6/22/12
Tr. MW, Oct. 2015

Gui ShiIN THE MIRROR

ax watching
his face
skinny, dried up
all his life
waiting to chop
people who part their hair in the middle

5/26/13
Tr. MW, Oct. 2015

Gui ShiRIDER’S INN

he sees in his dream
a few merry thieves
jumping out of himself
and some hired thugs
they each have a smoke
they buy some provisions and pickled vegetables
they make it back into his body
before he wakes up

outside of broadcasting studio #1
I’m holding on to a marten fur coat
stumbling about
I am holding the coat
for a #1 singer queen just like wang fei

to everyone
of the people who ask me what I am doing
I throw them one sentence
resounding and clear:
“I am a poet!”
“I am a poet!”
“I am a poet!”

finally there comes the day
of the last dress rehearsal
the director with pubic hair on his chin
is thinking of something
he’s calling me over:
“hey! you are a poet, right?”
how about a recital for our show?”

and so
with a country girl who sings in the underpass
and two migrant workers straining their throats
to tell you they’re old and alone
I am representing the downtrodden masses
the evening before the lunar new year
maybe because I’m a poet
I don’t look as nervous as the three others

a group of teenagers
surrounding and beating
a beautiful girl
with fists and feet
with rocks
a country road
in southern france
maybe on sicily
just this one scene
seen on tv
it was in the evening
and I knew it was a movie
I had other things to do
so I could not go on watching
a little sick
all the way sick
abnormally sick
I know what I felt
had nothing to do with the content they showed
but something was kindled inside
I could not pinpoint a reason
I was left hanging
with no place to land

Li Yunqi
LEADER, HOW COME YOU BECAME A CRIMINAL MONSTER?
— surprised to see security chief Zhou Yongkang reduced to a prisoner

For a long time, you were our leader.
On the chairman’s pedestal,
you stood tall and strong.
On the TV screen,
your vigor was shining.
Your voice carried strength,
you were sound as a bell.
You fought against crime,
you were unforgiving.
When you held the reins,
to protect law and justice for our nation,
every man on the street stood behind you.

Now I know, you became a criminal
only because you lost your power.
If you were still up in control,
no-one could do anything,
no-one would ever dare raise his voice.
Every ounce of a doubt
would have been slander.
Every one not behind you
would be against you.
Each one resisting
would be a traitor.

When you were up and running,
who gave you the highest place at the top?
And when you lost power,
who made you a stinking criminal monster?
Black and white, right and wrong,
Great leader and criminal,
it was all very sudden.

If you held onto crime and controlled justice,
should I believe fairness rules in society?
If greed led you all the way to the peaks,
should I believe in a value system?
How about people judged criminals by the criminal,
are they endangering our nation?

How long will it take till we won’t hear any lie in the media?
How long until power isn’t a wrestling driven by greed?
When will it be that my hand,
a small helpless hand,
becomes a shield to cut off crime when it spreads?